


The Thing About Brown Eyes Is...

by A_M_Kelley



Category: Bandom, The Who
Genre: 1960s, Author bashes the Beach Boys for realism, Explicit Sexual Content, First Meetings, Humor if you squint long enough, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Oral Sex, Plot! Plot! What is Plot?!, Semi-Public Sex, Sexual Coercion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-14
Updated: 2013-08-14
Packaged: 2017-12-23 08:48:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/924315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_M_Kelley/pseuds/A_M_Kelley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Keith pretty much has a spot in the band and Pete doesn't agree with this because he absolutely HATES the fucking Beach Boys. (circa 1964)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Thing About Brown Eyes Is...

**Author's Note:**

> This came about because of my fixation towards brown eyes (especially Keith's) and also because I need more Keith/Pete in my life. Watching the Amazing Journey documentary also made me want to write about when Keith first joined. And sorry for the Beach Boys bashing but I thought it would be unreal if Pete didn't hate them (because he does in real life).

Pete knew this kid was going to be trouble the moment he laid his bright gaze on his bleached Beach Boy hairdo, corduroy gear, and dark intense eyes. Christ, the Beach Boy hair was enough for Pete to not give him an audition but he had no say in the matter whatsoever even though it was practically his band. But John and Roger where just a part as this band than he was.

So when this wannabe Californian peered out of the crowd and announced that he could play better than their current stand-in drummer during their show, there was no stopping the kid. Pete, along with the other boys, stood there dumbfounded as this gingerbread man hopped up on stage and came over to get behind the drum kit. He unceremoniously shoved the drummer away, picked up a pair of drumsticks, and proceeded to destroy the drum kit.

His drumming style was sloppy at best and all over the place, but there was something so tame about it. It was wild and crazy but kept so perfectly under control as he beat the crap out of the drums. Half the audience thought the kid was looney, including Pete, but they were struck with so much awe that it was almost paralyzing.

After the drum kit was smashed to pieces, Roger politely announced that their show was over before they all made their way off stage. Almost immediately, Roger and John approached the ginger nightmare about joining the band and all Pete could do was skulk in the background. Pete had no rational reason to despise the kid really, but Pete HATED the goddamn Beach Boys.

John and Roger instantly greeted the kid as their new drummer, leaving it two votes to one, knocking Pete's vote down whether it was for or against the idea. For the rest of the night Pete watched from the corner of the room as John and Roger got on with the new edition to The Who. Pete couldn't help it if he was in a sour mood but the kid had those damn brown eyes on him the whole night.

At one point during all the drinking and boisterous laughter, Pete slipped away and headed for the bathroom. He didn't really have to go to the bathroom but Pete couldn't stand one more minute of that ginger nightmare charming his friends with charisma and big puppy eyes. Pete thought he might up chuck and he hasn't even drank that much.

Once he got to the sanctuary that was the bathroom, Pete turned the faucet on and splashed water onto his face to rid himself of bad gingerbread vibes. Pete was muttering to himself under his breath, saying things like "cocky ponce" and "Beach Boy wannabe" as he lets droplets of water run down his cheeks, gripping the sides of the sink tightly.

How dare some little wanker come up and upstage him! Pete was fuming and he was so furious that he could just take his guitar and smash all the mirrors. He gripped the porcelain tighter, making his knuckles go white with anger. But out of all the things that could be on Pete's nerves he just couldn't get those big brown eyes out of his mind.

They had been on Pete when that kid destroyed the drum kit, making silly faces as he drummed away with reckless abandon. He was like an energetic puppy caught in a biscuit shop and Pete was the disgruntled baker who was calling animal control. There was no other way Pete could put it into words.

When he raised his head up to look in the mirror Pete noticed the second pair of eyes staring back at him. They were big brown puppy eyes framed by neatly trimmed bangs and slightly mussed hair, still messy from his little performance on stage. Christ... not even able to get privacy in the bathroom.

"Alright then, mate?" The Beach Boy asked with a smile on his face, trying for a conversation.

Pete sighs and turns around.

"I'm Keith but my friends call me John," Keith jokes, sticking out a hand that goes unacknowledged. Pete just stares at his hand until Keith retracts it confidently. "So you're the one who plays the noisy guitar, ay? Pete, right?"

"Better to play a noisy guitar than to play sloppy drums," Pete remarks mirthlessly, arms crossing over his chest and thin lips in a hard line.

"Ain't nothin' sloppy 'bout me drums, mate. It's just everyone else doesn't know how to play 'em right," Keith smirks. It's cocky and arrogant and full of mischief that is climbing the walls to come out.

"Yeah, well, we're not interested in your... technique," Pete says flatly, mocking Keith like a snob.

"S'not wot the lads say, innit? From wot they tell me, I'm in. So we can either be mates or you can continue to be a stick in the mud," Keith finalizes in an ultimatum, getting a little more serious than he was before.

Pete stares at him with an incomprehensible look, reeling from the way Keith talked as if he has been in this band for years. Pete lets out a short huff of a chuckle, grinning widely like it was the funniest fucking joke on the face of the Earth because, quite honestly, Keith talking to Pete in that tone was absurd.

"Who died and made you king of the mods?" Pete laughs hysterically. He can see Keith's face go from serious to unamused in the blink of an eye.

"Wot's your problem? Why do ya not like me?" Keith asks, not one to be insecure about what other people think.

"I don't like the way ya look," Pete tells him honestly, making Keith scrunch his thick eyebrows and tilt his head like an inquisitive dog.

"Wot's wrong with me gear?" Keith inquires, taking a moment to look down at his clothes.

"Why you tryna look like one of them Beach Boy fairies?"

"Oi, wot you got against the Beach Boys?! Their music is great!" Keith protests skeptically getting a little defensive of Pete's assumptions and trying to defend his favorite band.

"Oh yeah, they're a riot," Pete agrees sarcastically, nodding his head. "For the deaf maybe..."

"Look, I didn't come here to argue..." Keith sighs heavily.

"Then wot do ya want?"

Keith lowers his head a little and turns away slightly, feigning bashfulness as he looks up at Pete from under his bangs. There's that mischievous little grin of his again and those big eyes almost pleading for innocence, but Pete is onto him. He's been onto him since the beginning. Pete narrows his icy gaze and gauges everything Keith does.

"Well, I was sorta hopin' I could maybe persuade ya to think differently 'bout me," Keith mumbles out as if he's shy, like he's been caught putting his hand in the cookie jar.

"And how do you plan on goin' 'bout that?" Pete inquires, unmoved by Keith's statement.

He's leaning against the sink now waiting for Keith to prove himself, looking him up and down with a judging eye. There is a moment in which Keith bites his lip as if he's thinking of whether he should go through with it or not, making Pete smile triumphantly like he's called Keith out on his bluff. But this is just to throw Pete off.

Keith is far from being taken seriously but Keith came in here on a mission and he'd be damned if Pete gave him the cold shoulder constantly. Keith gave him a wide grin and approached Pete with single mind determination. Pete didn't move but he did flinch a little when Keith placed a hand against his chest and smoothed out a wrinkle in his shirt.

Pete looked at Keith, watching every move and slide of hand he did, and Keith stared back with his big brown eyes. He looked so young and so innocent from his puppy eyes to his cheekbones and Pete couldn't stand the fact that he both hated and wanted Keith. Pete knew he should be swatting this little git's hand away but he figured he'd let it linger, just to see what Keith would do.

The hand on Pete's chest reached up to clasp behind his neck and pulled him forward slightly until Keith had his lips pressed firmly against Pete's. Pete went wide eyed and at first he thought it was a joke so he tried to push Keith away but the drummer only deepened the kiss by sticking his tongue in Pete's mouth. The breath was taken from his and Pete was reeling, leaving him momentarily light-headed.

Pete's never kissed a guy before, especially someone he's not particularly fond of, but Keith's mouth is warm and bitter from alcohol and it tastes amazing on Pete's tongue. He keeps his hands at his sides as he let's Keith control the kiss, swirling and nipping every so often. The kiss is soft and rough all at once, something that's impossible to get with a girl and Pete melts under Keith's lips as they searched out his jaw and neck.

Keith breaks away and pulls Pete to a stall, turning them around so he can push Pete backwards into the stall. Pete stumbles a little, heart pounding in his chest as he falls back onto a toilet seat. He strikes it roughly with his bony backside and winces slightly when something jabs in his spine. Pete rubs his back, trying to soothe it but failing.

"Oi! Wot you think you're doin'?" Pete begins to protest but his anger and words fall short when he raises his head up.

Keith closes the stall door and latches it before he drops down to his knees on the filthy floor. Pete stares dumbfounded down at Keith on the floor hoping that this was a joke after all. He's waiting for John and Roger to pop up and say "gotcha!" just so Pete can be put out of his misery, but that doesn't happen.

"Changin' your mind," Keith grins wickedly as he goes for the front of Pete's trousers.

Keith pops off the button and yanks down his fly eagerly, like he's been waiting for this all night. Keith finally gets the front of Pete's trousers open and sticks his hand inside, wrapping it around Pete's half hard cock to pull it out. Keith grins again, mischievous and wicked like everything about him, and chuckles a little.

"Someone's 'appy to see me," Keith remarks.

Before Pete is able to make any snarky reply Keith leans forward and takes Pete in his mouth in one go. Pete's breath is taken from him once again and he has to fight the urge to thrust into the warm inviting heat. He refrains from looking down as well. Pete doesn't know what he'd do if he saw a guy sucking him off.

Keith pulled off a little and sucked just on the tip to ease the way for his lips better. His tongue danced circles around the head of Pete's cock and it made Pete squirm. Pete's hands clutched at his pants, fighting to reach out and tangle his fingers in Keith's ridiculous hair. Keith smirked and leaned down further, taking more of Pete when the guitarist was fully hard.

Keith wrapped a hand around the base of Pete's cock went down as far as he could manage before he was stopped by his hand. He pulled off and went back down, starting off slowly before building up the pace and stroking in time with his hand. It was about as reckless as his drumming but it was so perfect.

It had Pete moaning despite him wanting to, he was trying to keep quiet, but Keith's mouth was hot and wet and he knew exactly what to do. Pete mused for a moment that Keith has done this before and it got him to thinking a little too much for his own good. Pete still had his eyes closed and his head turned away from Keith but it didn't stop him from acknowledging him.

"Seem to know wot you're doin'," Pete comments in between moans. "This how you get everyone on your side?"

Keith pulls off with a wet slide of lips and gasps for air.

"Oh, yeah. Sucked off John and Rog underneath the table earlier," Keith tells him sarcastically, almost straight-faced.

Pete's eyes shoot open and he looks down between his legs in shock, disbelieving of Keith's words. When he locks gazes with Keith he can see that the other man is merely joking, going by the giant grin on his face, and it was a ploy to get Pete to look at him finally.

"You're too easy, so tightly wound. Even on stage." Keith licks a line up the underside of Pete's cock and nuzzles just below the tip. "I can 'elp with that."

He's got Pete's full attention now and makes sure that he puts on a good show for the guitarist. Keith abandons the use of his hand altogether and sets to taking all of Pete in his throat without shortcuts or cutting any corners. It's all tongue and mouth as Keith bobs his head along the length of Pete, only gagging when he absolutely needs to, but other than that it's a walk in the park for Keith.

Pete adjusts himself on the seat of the toilet and decides it's time to give into his urges. He reaches down to tangle his hands in Keith's hair and looks down to watch all the things Keith is doing to him with that amazing mouth. Pete half expects Keith to have his eyes closed in concentration with a sort've blissed out expression but he doesn't.

When Pete looks down he notices that Keith is already staring at him with those big brown puppy eyes and it sends an impulse straight to Pete's cock. Pete lets out a deep groan, seeing the victorious smile in Keith's eyes, and thrusts lightly up into Keith's mouth to make him gag a little. Instead of gagging, Keith moans around his mouthful like sucking off some bloke in a dirty bathroom stall is the hottest thing in the world. Who knows, maybe for Keith it is? It's certainly doing a lot for Pete.

Keith's lips ripple along Pete's hard flesh on each up and down stroke of his mouth and it takes everything inside of Pete to not come from that sight alone. He still can't believe how far he let this go. He went from disliking this Beach Boy wannabe to letting him suck his cock in a public bathroom, knowing full well that John and Roger were just outside the door. Christ, what was he fucking doing? Pete needed to stop this now, but even he could no longer put up a fight against the inevitable.

Keith is working overtime now that he knows what Pete is trying to do. He can be very perceptive when he knows someone is holding back and he'll be damned if he doesn't make Pete come. He can feel Pete clench and pull his hair tighter as Pete's thumbs trace along his sharp cheekbones, rubbing the soft skin there delicately like Keith could shatter at any given moment.

There is an interval in which Keith pulls off entirely for a breather, licking and kissing along Pete's cock to make up for lack of sensation. Keith wraps a hand around Pete and jerks him for a few seconds to spread the wetness of his saliva all over Pete's cock before going back down. This time he gets all of Pete in his throat on one thrust down.

Feeling accomplished, Keith pulled off and did it again, this time staying there to convulse his throat muscles all around Pete's hard on. The suction was hard and tight and Pete let out a sequence of moans and half gasps that made his body lift off of the toilet seat, plunging himself deeper into Keith's throat. It was an accident but this time it made Keith gag. Pete stroked Keith's silly hair and rubbed his thumbs across his cheekbones, all the while looking directly into Keith's dark eyes.

It could be that what Keith was doing was amazing. It could be the hot, wet suction. It could also be all of Pete's pent up tension being released. But when Pete comes harder than he ever has he is caught up in Keith's big brown puppy eyes as his cock twitches and convulses into Keith's mouth. Those damn eyes roping him in at the last second and Pete realizes in that moment that those sad puppy eyes are going to be the source of all his problems.

Keith doesn't pull away as Pete comes either, something that any girl he's been with has never done before, and swallows around Pete's still pulsing cock. Pete is is still panting as Keith gives him one last suck before pulling off. Keith staggers up to his feet and it isn't until now that he notices how much his knees ache from being on a cold tile ground. But he doesn't particularly mind since he got what he wanted.

He dusts off his pants as Pete stands up on shaking legs to button up the fly on his trousers with lazy fingers. Keith grabs some tissue to wipe off his saliva and come stained lips before he pulls Pete to him for one last kiss. Pete is yanked forward by his tie and is kissed with the same intensity as before, instead this time he can taste himself on Keith's tongue. It isn't very unpleasant but it could take some getting used to, Pete figures. What is he saying? He doesn't want to get to this.

"Well then, everything seems to be in order now," Keith says after he pulls away to straighten Pete's tie out. "I gotta jet but seeya next week at practice ya?"

Keith winks, clicking his teeth at Pete before casually unlatching the stall door and walking out of the bathroom as if he hadn't just sucked off some random bloke. The door swung shut with a heavy thud and Pete is left standing there with the murmuring sensation of Keith still around him. Still kissing him and touching him. Pete definitely didn't want to get used to this.

Pete knew those brown eyes were going to be trouble in the long run.


End file.
